I always thought that when I went to college, inspiration would hit. I just knew that by moving away, I would know what I want to do for the rest of my life, boys would like me, and that everything would be peachy. But life isn't like that. You can't run away from your problems, they persist on following you, even if you don't give them a change of address form. It's kind of like Santa Claus, because they always know where to find you, only they aren't bringing your presents. They're bringing you coal. And yet, even though I haven't experienced a epiphany about my major or made a plethora of new friends, I have gained something. If nothing else, I have gained an appriciation of home. I always thought I'd miss home, but not too terribly. It wasn't until I lost it that I realized how much I love it.
I love the ocean, with the waters stretching out towards the curving edge of the globe. I love the Puget Sound, with twinkling lights reflecting from across the way on some green island or peninsula.
I love Tacoma, its industrial sprawl hugging the edge of the water.
I love rain drenching the streets in sheets & transforming the world into a misty gray.
I love Federal Way, with its lack of metropolian character. I love it, if only for the good times I've had there, and the people I love there.
I love Fred Meyer, because there are only Smith's and Bi Lows here, and they just aren't as good!
I love trees. Evergreens. Everywhere, with no sign of respite. I love looking around and seeing the tall Cascades in the distance, but not not having to feel closed in by them.
I love fall in the northwest, with crisp breezes, new crayons, pumpkin patches, and wet red leaves on the ground.
I love the people that live there, and the people that used to live there, and the times that I had there that I took for granted, but now treasure.
I could continue this list, but it is a list of nostalgia, useless.
All I have to say is that absence may make the heart grow fonder.
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